


Feelings into Words

by agonothymicInsomniac



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Flower Language, Fluff, Victorianstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 13:18:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/736129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agonothymicInsomniac/pseuds/agonothymicInsomniac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two high-class ladies, a erotica author and a seamstress, have tea at an inn.<br/>Said author has flashback, and decides to question her friend about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feelings into Words

**Author's Note:**

> IM NOT A HISTORIAN OR AN EXPERT ON FLOWERS AND HOMESTUCK ISNT MINE  
> (i do type like karkat though)  
> Edit: fixed a lot of typos/grammatical errors  
> (I should read through my fics before posting them...)

  
    Though it was 5 years ago you met, you still feel as if you do not know her. You still remember your mother's hand on your shoulder, and the summer breeze brushing against your flowing blonde hair, which you had cut on a later day. She was wearing a simple black dress - a corset underneath - with a high-necklined collar. She looked pale as the moon, but strangely, it fit her utter elegance.

  
    You felt horribly inadequate, as you were wearing a simple tea gown. You had picked out your own clothes, and no one had told you of the formality of this event. She tried to subtly glace at your outfit, but you had no idea whether she actually approved of it or not. The only thing you have to remember that day is the small lilac she gave you when you were alone in your estate's garden. You've kept it pressed in a book ever since. In fact, you have a whole book dedicated to flowers you've recieved.

  
    Now, you sit across from that very girl, enjoying a small tea party of two. You sit in a inn, run by a friend. Although you are both considered high-class and could pay, you get the tea on the house. You have both been silent for quite some time, occupied by thoughts. Once it occurs to you how quiet it has been, you clear your throat and speak up.

  
    "You know, Miss Maryam, they say a rose's scent can be rather intoxicating," you comment, smirking and gesturing to a red rose pinned to her otherwise dark dress.

  
    "And exactly what evidence do you base this on?"

  
    "Oh, you just seemed rather distracted today. Not rambling on and on about sewing a dress for someone? Please, you can hardly contain yourself about that."

  
    "Feferi Peixes did put in a rather extravagant order the other da--"

  
    "I assure you that was not an invitation to talk about your work." You chuckle, dropping two sugars in Kanaya's tea. "Or think about it. You should relax today, enjoy your tea."

  
    She blinked, "O-oh, thank you. I suppose I forgot to... add those." She stirred her tea and took a sip for good measure, all the while not taking her eyes off you. "How's your book coming?"

  
    "I assure you, I am getting there."

  
    Unfortunately, your answer seemed to provoke another rather awkward silence. You begin to think back to the days when you and her first met. Your acquaintance seemed innocent enough. It was clear your mother wanted Kanaya to be a good influence on you - to teach you proper manners, and how to lace your corset without any help. Instead, you two spent much time pouring over books and talking in the garden.

  
    Kanaya had always had a way with flowers, and in fact taught you some things about the language of flowers. You know she keeps notes on their meaning, and she knows you know, but for some reason, she won't let you see such "scandalous" things. Still, she leaves you flowers during the night. How she's so quiet, you doubt you'll ever know, but you're always glad when you wake up only to find one or two or three flowers outside your door.

  
    You've kept all of them. All the jonquils, arbutus', malvas, primroses, cloves, daffodils, forget-me-nots, gardenias, tulips, rosemary blossoms, phlox, orchids, and the one and only purple lilac she gave you years ago. They are all in one book, and one day you hope to translate what she's been dying to tell you for what seems like five years.

  
    You wish you could tell her what you've been trying to say for years, too.

  
    At the thought of all her flowers, though, you have acumulated a smirk. Kanaya notices, apparently, because she asks, "Quite content, no?"

  
    You smile and look to the side, almost laughing, "I was just thinking of all those flowers you send me. I still have no idea what they mean."

  
    She sighs, out of frustration or relief you cannot tell, and quickly downs the rest of her tea before standing and offering her hand to you. "I'll show you, finally."

  
    You blink. This is all so sudden. You've been sitting in silence with her for, what?, fifteen minutes? At most? You look down at your tea, neglected, not even halfway empty. But, on the other hand, you've wanted to know about her cryptic messages since, well, you've gotten them. So, you, Rose Lalonde, gently place your hand in Kanaya's and allow her to pull you from your seat and drag you all the way to the carriage.

  
    Your journey is short, and soon enough you arrive at your estate. You open the door for her and she practically blasts through your house, heading to the garden. By the time you close the door, she's not in sight anymore.

  
    "Wait up!" you shout, picking up the bottom of your dress and scuttling along to get outside. But it's too late, she's ran off somewhere in your ridiculously huge garden. Somehow, you get the feeling you know exactly where she'll be when she's done... whatever she's doing.

  
    You go sit under a rose-covered archway that was installed shortly after you were born. You suppose it is sort of your present for being brought into the world. You sigh as you wait for Kanaya, hoping she didn't ditch you. I mean, sometimes you can get a little..... only a LITTLE tipsy, and you do things rather stupid. Ditching her in such times was not a rare occurrence at all. Before you can get too embarassed thinking of your drunk self, Kanaya returns to you, her hands full of flowers. Ones you've never recieved, and some you have.

  
    "Consider this your first lesson in flower lingustics."

  
    "I'm already enthralled."

  
    She smirks as she hands you the flowers, explaining their meanings, "Mint, suspicion. Marigold, pain and greif. Magnolia, love of nature." It goes on and on and on, and you're wondering when you'll finally get to know what she meant with HER flowers.

  
    She finally picks one you recongnize. "Phlox, harmony."

  
    You analyse the word slowly in your head, saying it over and over to yourself.

  
    "Rosemary, rememberance."

  
    "Acacia, secret love."

  
    Oh okay secret love no big dea-- wait what.

  
    "Arbutus, you're the only one I love."

  
    You can feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks. You can see that her face is red, too.

  
    "Malva, I am consumed by love."

  
    "Purple lilacs, the first emotion of love."

  
    "Jonquils, return my affection."

  
    She's run out of flowers, and you understand. You understamd her feelings, and all of her flowers, and oh god if you had only known earlier.

  
    You remember a flower she had taught you about in that whole mess of otherwise meaningless flowers. You pick it up from the table, and hold it out to her.

  
    "Zephyranthes, I love you back."

  
    You don't ever think you had ever tasted lips so soft in your life.


End file.
